


Be Jolly (You're Mine)

by IridulcentDays (BiverbalBuncombe)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Human Names, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, RusAme Secret Santa, Sex, possessive Russia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9074599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiverbalBuncombe/pseuds/IridulcentDays
Summary: Ivan doesn't really like seeing a stranger leaning against Alfred, watching them laugh. But he's not grumpy about. Not. At. All.





	

**Author's Note:**

> RusAme Secret Santa 16 gift fit for Tumblr user Eyelashmcgee. Hope you like it!

There’s no snow, but what it lacks in the white elegance, it makes up in bitter and brutal cold. Ivan is already questioning if his boyfriend is sane to have pulled them out to ice skate on the coldest day of the year. It’s frigid enough that when you step out, it’s like a punch to the gut and your eyes water and stick to your lashes. Ivan had grown up in the cold and had no problem with it. Alfred on the other hand thought 18 C was cool enough to bundle up. 

Ivan took a sip of the hot chocolate he had been sent to find as he weaved his way through the crowd around the skating rink. It was centered in the park, lined with evergreen roping and velvet red ribbons. Lanterns filled with candles glowed warmly and people huddled by open fires, fingers outstretched as family and friends chatted. Ivan burrowed further into his scarf, hiding his numb nose from the biting wind. 

The local historical society put on the Christmas event every year for funding, setting up the small rink in the winter barren park and dressed in Regency period clothes. They had missed it last year when Ivan had come down with the flu right before Christmas and this year Alfred had been adamant that they would be on the rink no matter what. Ivan took another sip of the quickly cooling hot chocolate and scanned the crowd. He had left Alfred by one of the fires, desperately seeking the warmth as shelter from the windy night. 

Ivan finally sighted the red plaid trapper hat Alfred had been wearing and weaved through a throng of girls scurrying to get out of the cold and to the cafe Ivan had come out of. Alfred was facing away, looking at the rink and to Ivan’s surprise, talking to a stranger standing close by. 

Very close by. 

In fact the stranger was leaning in and laughing, holding Alfred’s bicep. Ivan frowned, walking a little faster and watched as Alfred shrugged the hand away, laughing and waved his hand, saying something that Ivan couldn’t hear. The stranger’s smile faltered and nodded, then after a few more exchanged words, he left. Ivan watched him go and then curved around the fire, holding out the hot chocolate. “Who was that?” He asked. 

Alfred jumped, startled at having not seen Ivan come from behind. He turned with a bright smile, firelight glinting off of his glasses. “What? Just a dude.” He took the offered hot chocolate, bumping Ivan when he stood at Alfred’s side. When Ivan hummed, Alfred raised a brow and laughed, “Oh come on. If you really want to know he was asking for my number, but I let him know I was dating the hottest dude in town already.”

“I go away for two minutes and men flock to you,” Ivan muttered into his drink, taking a sip too fast and nearly burning his tongue. 

Alfred’s laughter puffed into the air in a gust of white. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” he snickered. 

“Of course not,” Ivan sniffed, like the idea was below him. But that didn’t stop the small ember of jealousy from smoking under his ribs. When Alfred grinned at him with that idiotic smile, Ivan reached out and tugged his hat down, skewing his glasses and covering his eyes. Alfred let out an annoyed, ‘hey!’ and stepped away to fix his hat. 

Ivan stepped out of range of an attempted swat of retribution, and smirked. “Don’t spill your drink,” he said. Alfred stuck out his tongue and shuffled closer to the fire. Ivan looked out to the rink, watching two young boys wobble and nearly pull each other down in a desperate attempt to stay up. The fire popped and brought eye stinging smoke towards them as the wind shifted. Alfred hit his arm, and he looked down. 

“You ready to go back out when we’re warmed up?” Alfred asked. Ivan stared at him dubiously. He was bundled up in a blue parka, hat, gloves, and boots and he still looked like he was about to keel over from the cold if he took another step away from the amber fire. 

“Will that ever happen? You have thin blood. Too much nice weather.” 

“Look, I know some of us didn’t grow up in the tundra while carting sled dogs over our shoulders and carving ice with our bare hands, but I can deal with the cold.”

“Poorly,” Ivan muttered. This time Alfred managed to swat him and some of the hot chocolate spilled, dribbling down the white paper side of the cup. Ivan glared at Alfred who shrugged. “Is true.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever. Ready to go back on the ice?” Alfred asked when he finished his drink. 

Ivan considered it. The wind picked up and howled. Firelight guttered in the lanterns and a little girl squealed at the sudden blast of cold. “Or we could go home. I will make us a fire.”

“Oh, man. A fire and blankets sound really good. We could watch Star Wars and eat those sugar cookies Arthur gave us.”

Ivan swirled the dregs of his hot chocolate. “I ate them,” he lied. Really he had thrown them off the plate and into the trash, and immediately taken that out to the curb. Even the presence of Arthur’s cooking in the house seemed to affect the outcomes of Ivan’s own recipes. Alfred sometimes seemed to have no tastebuds, as in this case, where Ivan really wondered if Arthur had mixed up the sugar and salt. 

“Oh, really? Man. I really wanted one.” Alfred crumpled up the empty cup and tossed it to a nearby trash can. He missed and it landed on the icy ground He grumbled and walked over, throwing into the bin successfully and with a little bit of aggression. 

Alfred took Ivan’s hand, leading him away from the fire as they walked back to his car. Ivan tossed the rest of his hot chocolate away and he saw the man who had been flirting with Alfred. He wished he had his hot chocolate so he could throw it. Instead he did the more responsible adult thing and simply smiled viciously, indicating that yes, Alfred was his man, and yes, he was better than him. 

“I saw that,” Alfred muttered as they left the entrance to the park and towards the line of parked cars along the street. 

“What?” Ivan asked.

“Oh, come on. You were totally rubbing it in to that guy that I was taken.”

Ivan shrugged. “Perhaps. But he should know.”

“I did tell him I was taken.”

“Just wanted to make sure he knew for sure.” Ivan watched Alfred roll his eyes and open the car. He got into passenger seat. Alfred blasted the heat as soon as he turned on the car, but all that came out was cool air. 

“I hate this car,” Alfred sighed and merged into traffic. 

The ride home was mostly quiet, with Alfred turning on the Christmas sounds played on the radio, half singing to them and half babbling about the office Christmas party he had gone to earlier that day. Ivan listened, joining in on agreeing about how awful Erin was and humming when he told him that the guy two offices down had had a baby. He filed that away. They would need to send a card. They finally got to the house, lit up in a crazy mix of colorful string lights and LEDs (for Alfred) and simple white lights and greens (for Ivan).

“Oh, now the heat kicks in,” Alfred groaned and turned the car off. 

When they got into the house Alfred immediately shucked off all his layers and went to check on the thermostat, not caring if he tracked any ice into the house. Ivan lined their boots up by the door and looked up when Alfred yelled, “Why is at 64?”

“What?”

“The thermostat, it’s at 64 degrees! It’s freezing,” 

“Don’t turn it up,” Ivan chastised, comping around the hall to see Alfred frowning at the dial. “Just put on a sweater.”

“I am wearing a sweater! And an undershirt too.” Alfred ignored Ivan’s protest and raised it to 70 F. Ivan stepped forward and turned the dial down to 68 F. Alfred eyed it, as though weighing the pros and cons of stepping forward and launching them into a temperature war. “Fine,” He finally said and stalked away to get a heavier sweater. Ivan turned to the living room to start the fire. 

Most of the supplies were already stacked since they burned wood often in the winter. He stuffed the kindling in and then searched for matches. He sighed when he realized that they were in the upstairs bathroom. 

Alfred was sitting on the bed when he got to their bedroom, en route to the bathroom. He was halfway between dressing and had been apparently distracted by the football game on as he had one sock on and half a sweater looped over his chest. 

“You’re not wearing an undershirt,” he said righteously. It wasn’t cold in the house as long as you dressed right. Ivan scooped up the matches from the sink countertop in their master bath. 

“Yeah, I was. I took it off to put this one on.” Alfred pointed to the small pile of clothes on the floor. 

Ivan grumbled to himself and went to go back downstairs when Alfred called, “Hey, Ivan?” He turned and waited for the other man to continue. 

“Something up? You seem grumpy.”

“No, nothing is wrong,” Ivan said. 

“Please don’t tell me this is all about someone trying to pick me up,” Alfred said. 

“Well it wasn’t until you mentioned it. Again.” Ivan called from the bathroom. 

“Well I know you, and I can tell it’s bothering you. No idea why though.”

Ivan sighed, looking at his reflection in the mirror. That little ember of jealousy had yet to been put out. He turned away and shut off the light, walking into the bedroom. 

“Fine. I am being irrational and ‘grumpy’.” Ivan said in appeasement. 

“Wait, I didn’t say that,” Alfred said and reached out with his bare arm. Ivan stood just out of reach. “Tell me what’s up, babe.”

Ivan stared at him, trying to find the words. Communication wasn’t a great skill he had. Either of them had, really. But they had been trying and Alfred always tried to prompt him into talking because otherwise it would simmer and build and erupt over something inconsequential, and it would leave him upset and guilty and hating himself for the next week or so. And then he would do it again. Because he was great at this all. 

Alfred sat up further on the bed, finally coming into contact with Ivan, pulling him closer by the hips. Ivan brought his hands down, leaving them heavily on Alfred’ shoulders, his thumb rasping against the skin on the column of his throat. “This is the third time this week,” Ivan finally growled. 

“What, no it’s not,” Alfred said, blue eyes narrowing in thought. 

“It is. Monday at the grocery store and Yesterday when we went for dinner. And now today. And I think you actually like it,” Ivan accused. 

Alfred shifted his weight, rubbing the indent where Ivan’s pelvis met his hips. “Well, sure.”

“I knew it.”

“Hey, wait a sec. What’s wrong with that?” Alfred pulled his hands away to cross them. When Ivan didn’t say anything Alfred sighed. “Sure it’s flattering, but you know I love you right? It’s not like I’m egging them on or anything.” Alfred reached up and brushed his hand against Ivan’s jaw. “If it bothers you that much I’ll-uh, I guess I’ll try to stop it? Somehow,” Alfred looked to the dark window of their bedroom and furrowed his brows as he contemplated. “Maybe I’ll just scowl a lot like you,” he finally said with a laugh. 

Ivan frowned, but when Alfred’s cheeks suddenly bloomed with ruddy heat and he looked down to the covers to the bed. Ivan leaned in, watching him carefully.  
“But,” Alfred continued quieter. 

“But?” Ivan prompted when Alfred stopped and suddenly found the loose thread on the duvet more interesting. 

“Well, uh, the thing is. Never mind.” Alfred shook his head and tried to pull away, but Ivan still had ahold of his shoulders. 

“No, what were you going to say?” Alfred hummed and muttered something under his breath. Ivan pulled his chin up with his fingers, getting Alfred’s blue gaze to meet his own. 

“You get really, uhh, possessive, I guess. You know? Um. Like, it’s nice?” He cleared his throat and glanced away, “Especially… you know.” When Ivan stayed silent Alfred’s face bloomed into a deep red, flooding his ears and seeping down towards his chest. Ivan blinked, realizing what he was saying. 

Huh. 

“You are telling me,” Ivan purred lowly, his voice a coaxed note of a cello, “You are flirting with others to get a reaction out of me?”

“What?” Alfred said, voice high and eyes widened. “No way! I’m not flirting.”

“I think you are,” Ivan murmured, fingers carding through Alfred’s hair, pausing to grip his hair near the nape of his neck. “I think you like to rile me up.” He leaned in close, could see the burn in Alfred’s eyes, “and I think I should remind you of something.”

“What?” Alfred breathed. 

“You are mine,” Ivan said into his ear, and pulled his head back to graze his lips against the pale column of his neck, before scraping skin with his teeth and sucking hard. 

“Christ,” Alfred groans, hands springing upward before Ivan caught it and held him in place. 

Ivan pulled away, pressing his lips to Alfred’s, feeling the moan vibrate against his skin. Ivan pulled him in closer, fingers intwined in his blond hair before they parted and Alfred grinned dazedly, and let out a breathless laugh. 

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

“You are a trouble maker,” Ivan accused and let his fingers fall down, sweating along the bumps of his spine before drifting lazily along Alfred’s ass and grabbing hold. “I should teach you a lesson.”

Alfred looked like he was about to laugh, lips quirking in a valiant effort to stop a hiccuping laugh from escaping. “Maybe you should.”

His thumb ran along the inseam of Alfred’s jeans, pressing against the fabric along the cleft of his ass. “Is that a challenge?”

“God, yes,” Alfred breathed, jumping slightly when Ivan kneaded his fingers along the other’s backside, trailing the inseam down and into the junction of his pelvis and inner thigh. 

“Then get on your knees,” Ivan said, gripping the inside of Alfred’s thigh and squeezing once before letting go. Alfred’s breath hitched and Ivan smiled, slipping a finger under the hard bone of his jaw and tilting the younger man’s face up. God, his eyes were beautiful. Dark and lustful, twilight slipping into night. “Well?” He said. 

Alfred huffed and slowly dropped to his knees, briefly pressing his cheek against Ivan’s thigh, breath damp against the fabric, and looked up as he settled on the rug covered bedroom floor. Ivan threaded his fingers through Alfred’s hair as he undid his belt and zipper, pulling out his half risen cock.

He trailed his fingers down the shaft, smiling devilishly when Ivan groaned and he looked down at his boyfriend, about to mutter about hurrying up and do something when he leaned forward and licked the head of his cock, lathing the skin and grabbed the base with firm fingers. 

Ivan moaned, fingers tightening their purchase as Alfred began expert work, rasping his tongue wetly along the engorged length and moved his fingers in time, sliding them forward slowly before dragging them down, cupping his balls gently. 

His fingernails scratched at Alfred’s scalp as he pulled back, leaving the quickly cooling spit covered cock alone for a moment and smiled up at Ivan. He growled and Alfred winked before taking the length into his mouth . Ivan gasped, feeling the hot wet heat envelop him. His hips stuttered. Alfred pulled back, sucking on the head of his cock with obscene wet sounds, before swallowing him until his nose pressed up to where his fist was once again curled around the base. 

Ivan watched him with half lidded eyes, flushed with pleasure and the hyper and mad hunger that ate at him. He pulled at Alfred’s hair, feeling the other man defer to him and controlled the pace. “You are so beautiful like this,” he murmured, strained. Alfred hummed, sending vibrations along his cock before hollowing his cheeks. Pulling his hand away, Alfred’s fingers circled tightly around Ivan’s thighs with bruising force. Ivan sped up, hips thrusting deeper each time until Alfred’s nose buried into soft curls of hair. His throat convulsed around Ivan. 

Ivan ’s hips stuttered erratically as he came to completion, coming with a cry that caught in his throat. Breathing hard, he watched Alfred pull away, swiping his mouth and looking so damn cocky Ivan had to get rid of that look. 

“Stand up,” he commanded, as though he hadn’t just been reduced to wavering knees and moans by the other man’s tongue. “Take off your pants and stand against the wall, ” he said and watched Alfred’s gaze narrow, pondering, before he pulled off his pants and pressed his back against the wall. Ivan spun his finger and Alfred turned with a grumble. Ivan shucked off the pants that were bunched around his thighs, leaving them discarded on the floor and went to collect the small bottle of lube in their nightstand. He turned around, looking at Alfred who had his hands fanned out against the smooth walls, bare ass round and enticing. 

An image burned in his mind. Of Ivan fucking him and pressing back up the pearly spend that would drip down his thighs afterwards and finger fucking Alfred to completion. Heat twitched in his lower stomach. Next time, he decided. Pouring some of the lube into his palm, Ivan rubbed it along his free empty hand as he turned Alfred over, grabbing his wrists with one hand and gripped his ruddy erection. 

Alfred gave a shout of surprise which became a choked out moan as Ivan slowly stroked his fingers along the entirety of Alfred’s cock. Alfred whined, impatient at the slow and deliberate strokes Ivan was using and tried to thrust up into Ivan’s warm lube slicked fist. 

Ivan smiled, pressing his leg up against Alfred and pinning him in place. “Oh no,” he breathed. “This is your punishment.”

“Ivan,” Alfred moaned, “please–“

“I shouldn’t even let you out of the house,” Ivan cut him off, voice low as he watched Alfred’s eyes open and close, desperate for more. “The amount of people who don’t know you’re mine.” He didn’t change his speed, instead when Alfred again tried to thrust into his hand, he slowed the pace down. When he got a frustrated whine, Ivan grinned lazily and brought the strokes back to their languid pace. He stopped and whispered into Alfred’s ear, “I do not like sharing,” he reminded him, rubbing his thumb along the head of Alfred’s dripping cock. 

The sounds Alfred were making were amazing, loud and obscene, and needing. “Ivan, please,” he sobbed and Ivan resumed stroking. 

“You are mine,” he growled and devoured Alfred in a kiss. He tasted like the hot chocolate from earlier. He licked at his mouth, tasting and devouring. Ivan lowered his head, parting to look at Alfred’s swollen spit glossed lips and licked a salty patch of skin at the junction of his neck, biting down hard as he picked up the pace. This time he let Alfred thrust into his strokes, murmuring in Russian how beautiful he looked, and reached around to press one finger along the cleft of his ass and down lower until he was circling his hole, and Alfred came with a silent gasp, relief caught in his throat as Ivan stroked him through the orgasm. 

He wiped his dirty hand against Alfred’s shirt, ignoring the tired sound of complaint and backed way until his knees hit the bed and he lay down. Alfred grumbled something he couldn’t understand and shucked off his shirt, coming onto the bed and collapsing onto of Ivan. The air in his lungs huffed out at the sudden weight. He looked up into blue eyes, brushing away the sweat matted bangs and let his eyes trail along his neck. 

“Happy?” Alfred asked. He brought a hand up to his neck, covering the purple marks Ivan had been enjoying. 

“Very,” Ivan murmured. “You should wear that red thing and go out to that bar next time.”

“Oh, so now you want to do this on purpose,” Alfred laughed, settling down next to him on the bed and pulling a blanket over them. 

“The outcome is…nice” Ivan said. He knew what he wanted to do next time. Maybe he would bind Alfred’s hands together with one of his ties. That might be hot. 

Alfred hummed and rested his cheek along Ivan’s shirt. “Well, the night’s still young. Bar doesn’t close until 1 am.”

Ivan studied him, and pulled him close with a kiss. “Maybe after a nap.”


End file.
